


Not Broken, Never Alone

by Miikado



Series: All Your Faves Are Ace [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Ace!Adrien, Ace!Marinette, Asexual Adrien Agreste, Asexual Character, Asexual Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Asexuality, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Self Acceptance, ace fic, miraculace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:46:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8012437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miikado/pseuds/Miikado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrien freaks out about his own feelings and sexuality (or lack thereof), but he can always count on Marinette to comfort him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Broken, Never Alone

**Author's Note:**

> First official ace fic (I have dozen others in the midst of being written tbh), I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> WARNING: One (although very short) paragraph contains some violently aphobic comments, which in no way reflect my personal thoughts (me being hella ace and all), but were taken out of a very real article that I had the bad luck of reading a while back. This story also reflects the character's coming to terms with his asexuality, and has some pretty self-depreciating thoughts at the beginning. It's all a happy end, but please be warned in case this is a sensitive topic for you.
> 
> Also, on another note, two friends and I are running an a-spec miraculous blog on tumblr @miraculace, so if you want some more content there's pretty to find over there!

_...Chaton… Chat… Chat Noir! _

 

“Huh?” 

 

Chat jumped out of his skin at the sound of his name, nearly toppling over the metal girder of the Eiffel Tower where he had been sitting. His head snapped towards the sound, only to find Ladybug staring at him, worry apparent on her face.

 

“Are you alright?” She asked, tilting her head to the side. “You’ve been zoning out during the entire patrol. You’re not usually like this, is something distracting you?”

 

The black cat felt warmth clutch at his heart, like it usually did when his lady showed genuine worry and interest in him. Unfortunately, the feeling was short lived, and soon the cold feeling of anxiety was back, gripping at his throat until he was almost choking. He shook his head, trying to regain composure.

 

“I’m fine.” He said, voice devoid of its usual chirpiness. In that moment, Adrien hated being his feline alter ego, as he knew his cat ears were probably droopy and giving away his current state of mind. “I’m just tired.” He lied. “I think I’ll cut short to patrol, if you don’t mind…”

 

Ladybug eyed him suspiciously, and the longer he was under her scrutinizing baby blue eyes, the more awful he felt. Finally, she gave him a nod of approval. 

 

Chat Noir was off before she could even bid him a good night.

 

The trip home took him less time than usual, passing by in a blur. His mind was reeling, barely taking in his surroundings, and he barely realised he had reached the mansion until he had almost crashed into his bedroom window. 

 

He stood there, in the middle of his empty room, for a long while. Patrol hadn’t helped him clear his mind as he had hoped it would. Even seeing Ladybug had done little to lift his spirit. His usual solaces had been of no help to relieve his heavy heart. He was in desperate need of comfort, with nowhere to seek it.

 

He gave up, detransforming and feeding Plagg—paying no mind to the kwami’s nagging—before flopping in his desk chair, bringing his computer back to life with one shake of the mouse. 

 

The Ladyblog was the first thing to appear, screen still stuck on the comment section where he had left it. Most comments were positive; praising Alya’s work as a freelance reporter, or loudly acclaiming the two heros’ last victory over an akuma. But others… Well Adrien supposed they weren’t exactly  _ negative… _ Crude would be a better word. 

 

He had seen them before, the crass comments on Ladybug’s appearance, the lewd innuendos and obscene depiction of what those people wanted to do to her. Alya made a point of deleting all of them, but the blog was very popular, with more comments every day than she could handle, and so some of them slipped past her guard. 

 

Adrien had, of course, taken offence on his Lady’s behalf, repulsed by those comments. But lately… Lately one thing had been nagging him in the back of his mind.

 

He loved Ladybug, there was no denying it. He had been in love with the girl in the spotted mask from the second he had first laid eyes on her. And now, 3 years later, his love was stronger than ever. And yet, not once had he had similar thoughts towards her. 

 

Not that he would ever think of his lady in such a degrading, insulting way. But, the idea of touching her in similar ways, of being with her… Like that… It had never before crossed his mind. It should have, shouldn’t it? He was a boy in his late teens, supposedly constantly hormonal and horny. The boys he went to high school with had those thoughts—judging by the way they talked about this or that classmate, or whatever female idol was popular at the time. Why didn’t  _ he _ ?

 

He had had a few crushes before, mostly people he went to school with, but none of them had ever sparked those feelings in him. He’d always assumed he’d finally get to feel them when he’d meet “The One”. That’s what the movies had taught him, anyway. Boy meets girl, falls in love, and expresses said love with sex... 

 

Ladybug was the real deal to him, not just a passing fling. She plagued his every thoughts, constantly on his mind. She was perfect, an ethereal being descended from the heavens just to bless him with her presence. That was love, wasn’t it? He really, truly loved her, there was not a doubt in his mind. And yet, nothing. 

 

There was something wrong with him. There had to be. He refused to think that this lack of lust meant that his love for his lady wasn’t, well, Love. He loved her. He did. Did he? 

 

Adrien shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts he had carefully avoided until now. Before he could overthink this any more, Plagg came hovering in front of him.

 

“Kid, I don’t know what’s going on in that brain of yours, but you should really get some sleep.”

 

He glanced at the clock on his screen. 2AM. Wincing, he shut down his computer and headed to bed, dreading the exhaustion that would surely follow in the morning.

 

He barely slept that night.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Nino… Do you think about sex?”

 

The question had left his mouth before he could hold it back. He and Nino had been having lunch outside in the school patio, eating silently. Adrien had been preoccupied, the thoughts from the previous night coming back at full force from the second he had awoken. Nino had been making the conversation for the both of them, talking about this and that—Adrien hadn’t really been paying attention.

 

The question seemed to startle him, but finally he shrugged. “Ya dude. I mean, no more than your usual run-of-the-mill sixteen year old, I guess…” He raised an eyebrow. “Why? Did you have sex? Dude if you did you’re obligated to tell me!”

 

“No!” Adrien knew when his friend was about to get carried away, and he wanted to put an end to this conversation before Nino could let his imagination run wild and put him in an even more uncomfortable position. “No… I was- I was just thinking about it.” He decided it was best not to mention that he was only thinking about how much he really,  _ really _ didn’t want it.

 

“Yeah well, that’s just how things go at our age, I guess…” Nino shrugged again. “Did your dad not tell you about those things?”

 

Adrien grimaced. A couple of years ago, around the same time they had started learning about reproductive biology in class, this father had sent Nathalie to give him The Talk… The poor woman had seemed about as uncomfortable as he had been.

 

“It was traumatizing.” The boy frowned. “But… Do you- Do you think girls think about it as well?”

 

“Probably.” Nino said. “I know Alya said she does, and apparently girls talk about it sometimes… Is there a specific girl you had in mind?”

 

“No.” Adrien shook his head. “I was just wondering…”

 

“Don’t worry, my dude.” His friend nudged his side playfully. “Whoever she is, I’m sure that girl will be over the moon the the idea of doing it with Famous Model Adrien Agreste™”.

 

Adrien gave him a strained smile. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Of course teenagers wanted sex. He was the abnormal one here...

 

Nino dropped the subject after that, which Adrien was incredibly grateful for. Lunch ended soon after that, and the afternoon dragged on painfully slowly. When classes finally ended, he declined Nino’s offer to hang out—despite having no other obligations that day—and headed straight home. The mansion was empty as always, with no one to stop him on his way to his bedroom, and soon enough Adrien found himself sitting at his desk again.

 

He had to get answers, to find out what was wrong with him. He figured the easiest way to find answers was to go online. And so he began looking. 

 

The first few results that came up were inconclusive, mostly dealing with postmenopausal drops of libido in older women. Dread started taking over him when the next finds after that all described hormonal disorders with complicated names and treatments that had his blood run cold. 

 

Adrien was growing desperate, more and more convinced with each passing second that there was in fact something terribly wrong with him. Until, finally, one article caught his mind.

 

**_Lack of sexual attraction: The new identity?_ **

 

He clicked the link, eagerly devouring the first paragraphs of the article, waiting to find something in there that would validate his feelings.

 

He was hit by the sheer violence of the discourse.

 

The article talked about this new movement of people proudly claiming their lack of sexual attraction… And how wrong they were. Those “human amoebae”, taking pride in their right to remain selfish and the sexual equivalent of “dead fishes”… Those “sex dunces” who barely deserved to be called human, who were too low to be respected… Those monsters who forced their partners into unfulfilling relationships for their own selfish needs…

 

Adrien recoiled from the computer, hands jerking from the keyboard like it that just burnt him. His breath was short and shallow, heart racing as the whole room spun out of control around him. He stood up, sending his chair toppling backwards but only caring about his inability to catch his breath.

 

“Hey, are you okay kid?” Plagg asked from somewhere around him. He couldn’t see him, couldn’t see anything aside from the blur that had swallowed his room. He took an unsteady step back.

 

“I-I…” Words couldn’t come out, he couldn’t make sense of his own thoughts. “I have to get out.” Before the kwami could object, Adrien cried; “Plagg, claws out!”

 

Chat was out the window in a second. 

 

He didn’t know where he was going, what was happening. It was raining, but he didn’t care. The buildings were flashing by around him and he couldn’t make sense of where he was. He had to get out. That was the only coherent thought in his mind. Had to leave, had to run. From what he didn’t know, but he was terrified and he knew he couldn’t stop, couldn’t go back.

 

This staff gave way under him, slipping on a wet cobblestone, and Chat went crashing down on a nearby balcony. 

 

He had been too dizzy for his catlike reflexes to kick in on time, and although he managed to catch himself so he wouldn’t smash his skull on the ground, the hit that followed as he collapsed on the tiles sent a wave of flashing pain in his left arm. 

 

He laid there for a while, lying on his back as the rain hit his face and seeped through his suit, in the middle of the broken flower pots he had brought down in his fall. His heart was still hammering, his head still dizzy, and the only thing anchoring him to reality was the soaring pain in his arm. 

 

How long he stayed there, he had no idea. Seconds had passed, minutes, maybe even hours, until finally light came pouring out behind him and he heard a voice call his name.

 

“Chat?”

 

Rushed footsteps coming closer, and someone was by his side, pulling at his arm to get him to stand up. He cried out in pain, and the pulling stopped. A face came into view, familiar black hair that he barely registered, and he was pulled to his feet. He allowed himself to be carried down a trap door and flopped down on the bed below. 

 

It was warmer inside, the bed under him was comfortable despite the dampness that he had probably caused. His eyes were still shut tight, and he jumped when soft hands came to rest of his forehead. Before he could pull away, those same hands were brushing his hair, a soft voice speaking soothing words next to him. It was nice, comforting. 

 

Slowly, the blur around him began to edge away. His heart rate settled into a steady beat, his breathing came back to normal and his thoughts collected. He waited a few more minutes until he finally found the strength to open his eyes.

 

“Marinette?”

 

The brunette smiled softly over him, her hands still patting the top of his head. Her hair was loose, falling in messy locks and framing her face as she looked down at the feline hero.

 

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked.

 

Chat nodded slowly, pushing himself up until he was sitting on the bed. He winced when the throbbing pain in his arm acted out. Marinette reached out to him, examining his injury the best she could through the suit, until finally declaring;

 

“I think you bruised your arm. Stay here, I’ll get an ice pack.” She climbed down the ladder and slipped out through the trapdoor that led to the rest of her house, leaving Chat Noir alone.

 

For the first time, the blond boy took in his surroundings.  _ Pink _ was his first thought. He was in his classmate’s room, on the mezzanine under the window that led to her balcony. The bed under him was covered in stuffed animals and plush white blankers, almost swallowing him completely. He decided he liked it there.

 

Marinette came back shortly after, pressing an ice-cold plastic pack filled with bright blue gel on his arm, numbing the pain almost instantly. They stayed in silence for a while, Chat Noir letting his injury be treated with Marinette sitting right next to him. After a moment, she finally lifted her gaze from the ice pack and asked;

 

“What happened?”

 

It was a simple question, but Chat found that he had no answer to it. The words got stuck in his throat, keeping him from forming a single coherent sentence. The feeling of terror from before was gone, leaving him feeling absolutely, completely devastated. And so, when he tried speaking again, the only thing that passed his lips was a sob.

 

Marinette blinked in surprise as her partner completely broke down in front of her. But her response was immediate; She held him closely to her, letting him wrap his arms around her middle and bury his face in her stomach as he told her every thought that had plagued his mind in the past weeks. Every doubt, every fear. He told her about Ladybug, about the article, about how he was so terrified of being broken, of being unlovable because of it. And Marinette listened to every shaky word, every broken sentence he spoke. She listened, holding him as physically close as she could, hugging him and petting him and trying to take away all his sorrows.

 

It was late at night when Chat finally calmed down, heavy sobs reduced to shaky sniffles every now and then. He grimaced at the throbbing headache, immediately regretting his breakdown. After a few minutes if heavy silence, Marinette spoke again hesitantly;

 

“Chat… Have you ever heard of asexuality?”

 

The boy frowned, standing up so he was facing the brunette, but never quite breaking the contact between them. He shook his head.

 

“It’s a type of orientation, for people who don’t experience any sexual attraction towards anyone.” She explained. “There’s a whole bunch of people like that out there, who just don’t want sex. They’re not broken, there’s nothing wrong with them… It’s just who they are.”

 

“Really?” Chat asked, and his eyes were more hopeful than Marinette had ever seen them. 

 

Marinette hummed, and Chat Noir managed to give her a semblance of a smile. It quickly wavered, and when he spoke again his voice was small and unsure.

 

“I-I love Ladybug.” He said. “I genuinely do. But, all that  _ stuff… _ I just don’t want it, not with anyone. Everyone acts like sex is such a big deal in a relationship and I… I’m just scared that she won’t want to be with me because of that… That no one ever will.”

 

“Chat…” Marinette tightened her grip on his gloved hand. “You’re not unlovable because you don’t want to sleep with anyone. And it doesn’t make your love for someone any less valid. You know Ladybug better than I do, do you honestly think that she’d let something that trivial bother her?”

 

“No but..” 

 

“But nothing.” The brunette cut him off. “I’m sure she won’t mind. If she really wants to be with you, then she won’t let something like this bother her. And if she does… Well she wasn’t worth your time in the first place.” She smiled. “You’re allowed to love people in your own way, chaton… It might not be how most people do it, but it doesn’t make your way any less valid.”

 

Chat Noir gave her a smile, wider and more confident this time. “Thanks Mari.”

 

She smiled back. “Oh, wait.” She turned around, snatching a notebook and pen from the nightstand next to her. She flipped it open at a random page and started writing. Chat watched patiently as she ripped the page from the notebook and handed it to her. Looking down at it, he realised she had written a bunch of websites.

 

“Check them out. You’ll see you’re not alone in this.” She smirked. “You’ll feel right at home in the ace community, they’re very fond of puns.” Marinette couldn’t recall seeing Chat Noir beam at her any brighter than he did in that moment. 

 

Her hand was still holding his, rubbing soothing circles just above his thumb. She looked down at his gloved hands, and smile as she said;

 

“Do you want to hear something funny?” The feline nodded. “Ace people often wear black rings that look a lot like yours…” She brushed her thumb over his miraculous. And, so quietly that Chat Noir almost missed it, she added;  “And mine.”

 

Her partner blinked at her for a minute, seemingly lost, and finally looked down on their intertwined fingers. On Marinette’s middle finger was a ring he hadn’t noticed before, a plain black band.

 

“Oh.” He gaped. “You mean you’re… Oh.”

 

The brunette smiled, chuckling softly as she pulled her loose hair behind her ear.

 

“Looks like you crashed on the right roof.” She teased. Her smiled softened, and she asked; “How’s your arm?”

 

Chat Noir smile softly. They both knew it was just a bruise, and the pain had subsided a while ago. From her tone, and the intensity in her eyes, Marinette knew just as well as he did that the question wasn’t really about his injury.

 

“Better.” He said. “Thanks.”

 

“Good.” Marinette sighed in relief. “I’m glad I could help.”

 

They stayed in silence for a little while, the black masked hero not quite ready to leave yet. It was nice here, comfortable. He was feeling better, but in that instant he was in perfect company, and he didn’t want this moment to end. 

 

Marinette seemed to share his idea when she suddenly perked up and asked;

 

“You know what sounds a lot better than sex right now?”

 

“What?”

 

“Cake”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please please please leave a comment so I know if I should write more ace themed fics (or just more fics in general) and make sure to check out the blog @miraculace! 
> 
> Also I hope the article part was not too bad for anyone. Trust me I actually sugar-coated it the real thing was like ten times worse. But anyway let me know so I can give you a giant hug! xoxo


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